And the countdown begins…

September 1, 2009

The sold sign is finally on the for sale sign.

Since the whirlwind first week in August (from hereon known as the week of chaos where we bought our home) I have not, it seems, had a chance to slow down. Soft luscious yarn, the click of needles, and surfing the net for intricate and unique patterns have been replaced by dry cardboard boxes, the sound of packing tape being ripped from its roll, and scanning my possessions to discern the most appropriate way to pack them in an effort to avoid breakage and damage. Yes, my knitterly moments that have served as a conduit delivering me into that serene space filled with rejuvenating sanity have been replaced with afternoons fraught with the chaos of boxes and packing materials that leave me filled with anxiety and tension.

My knitterly escapes are in need of much attention.

The sparse knitterly moments, although far and few between, are well appreciated in light of the pandemonium of the days and weeks that lie ahead of me. I continue to fill boxes with carefully wrapped treasures and, some days, even feel a bit elated as progress is detected. My china cabinets are packed with boxes stacked. My office and books are stored away and await deliverance to their new home. My walls are becoming more barren as I store my art and framed family photos carefully into crates. My closets have been purged and greatly reduced of anything remotely resembling clutter. My fibre studio, which includes yarn and fabric and all sorts of patterns and notions, are sorted and boxed and labeled awaiting the arrival of the movers at 8:30am on September 25, 2009.

Books and more books and knitterly sundries.

The china cabinet is emptied and the table houses the packing supplies.

As I sit and write this I do realise that 24 days are remaining. I find my thoughts turning to the basement in my current home. This has been home to storage and computers and was always lovingly referred to as the Dungeon. The Dungeon has been home to the husband and the teenager. I have worked very hard at not involving myself in the organisation and placement of items that live down there. Over the past four years I have not had a lot to do with the Dungeon as it was indeed the realm of the husband and the teenager. This might have been a mistake.

Will 24 days be enough time?

I have moments where I am adventurous and attempt to navigate my way through piles and papers and unknowns that live in the Dungeon. A veritable obstacle course created from treasures and computer paraphernalia that only a male geek could truly appreciate. I do not look at it with the same eyes. Yes, the books are packed into their boxes and stacked. Yes, the storage area under the stairs has been ruthlessly sorted, purged, and packed. Yes, the massive entertainment unit has been dismantled and stored into a corner (we are finding a new home for this piece of furniture). Yes, the teenagers tv/computer area has been torn down and packed away. We’ve even had the Salvation Army come and pick up some unwanted, yet gently used, pieces. Why, then, would I be troubled with the 24 days remaining and the amount of sorting / packing left to do?

The obstacle course remains. The tiny piles of tools, cables, computer parts, etc. have not been sorted nor purged nor packed. The remains of four years worth of geekdom litter the floor and table tops. I’ve yet to look into the dungeon and see progress. However, I do see chaos and topsy-turvydom. I see mounds of items that ought to be purged. I see cluttered spaces that only a true geek could appreciate.

One minute bit of chaos put to order?

Yes, the countdown has officially begun. The calendar won’t slow its turning and the passing of one more day creates just a little more stress. We have a static deadline that will not be moved. In my view we have little time to waste and need to get to packing up the remainder of the house. My eyes show me more than 24 days worth of work in the Dungeon and my brain sets to panic mode whilst I consider the remainder of the items that are in need of attention.

Will we make it to the end of this move? Try as I might to organize and complete tasks my orderly ticking off of the to-do does not marry nicely with the chaos of a man who has no issue with doing things in the last minute type of way. My sanity may return, but I have my doubts it it will do so before the end of this process. I expect that it will return when I have my knitterly filled afternoons and evenings back. I have missed my Sunday afternoons gartering and giggling with all of my knitterly friends in favour of making progress in a house that is filled with four years worth of living and stuff.